


Details in the Fabric of Life

by Salmonellagogo



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-25
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-04-27 19:16:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14432313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salmonellagogo/pseuds/Salmonellagogo
Summary: Brad came home.





	Details in the Fabric of Life

There wasn’t much to it -- this part of their life. One big open plan room on the ground floor, to which the kitchen was recent extension, and a metal staircase that ran along a wall to reach the mezzanine floor where a king sized mattress and two drawer chests were laid on top of the hardwood floor. Nate’s books were strewn everywhere from the nightstand to the kitchen counter, something that Nate knew both amused and irritated Brad to no end.  
  
On the days when Brad was deployed, the rooms didn’t feel empty, but it didn’t feel quite full either. Nate spent his time studying, keeping his mind occupied and acted like he didn't occasionally still dream of nights spent in the ranger grave, sweating and shivering under the assault of desert sleet, catching Team One Alpha’s low key chorus of random songs in the distance.  
  
When Brad came back from his second tour, Nate still had a year of university laid out for him. He was neck deep in papers and essays, running on his sixth cup of coffee. He didn't notice when Brad slotted his key to the front door and opened it.

He also didn't notice when Brad put his duffel bags in the foyer and walked to the kitchen. Brad stepped around Nate who sat by the dining table, hair jutting out haphazardly and lips chewed red. Loudly, Brad put away the Cheerios, the coffee, the beers, the produce he picked up on his way home.  
  
“Huh?” Nate finally looked up. He blinked his tired eyes several times, looking as if he was trying hard to fight sleep and couldn’t decide whether or not the sight of Brad was a figment of his imagination.  
  
“Hey yourself,” Brad said magnanimously. Arms crossed and hips half leaning against the kitchen counter.  
  
Several variations of surprise ran through Nate’s face, before he settled at disbelief. “It’s September. You’re not supposed to be back until December.”  
  
“Something went down. Some missions were aborted,” Brad said. “No one’s hurt.” He added at Nate’s prolonged look.  
  
“You brought groceries,” Nate said accusingly.  
  
“You did mention you had your papers due and some exams coming.”  
  
Nate shook his head.  
  
“Come here, Brad.”  
  
Brad stepped closer dutifully. He came to stand at the side of Nate’s chair. There were many things to be said; among them was Nate’s less than stellar situational awareness and Brad’s poor choice of cereal. He knew Nate’s preference. Brad bought Cheerios only when he wanted to annoy Nate.  
  
Nonetheless, Nate smiled. “Miss you,” he said, right before their lips met. It felt like home. It felt like waking up.


End file.
